Page 123 of The Moonstone Pirate
“What is it, love?”
She began squirming in his arms and roiling the waves that surrounded them. She frantically pointed toward something in the water. “Draco! Look! I knew it! I knew you loved me!”
Hadn’t he told her often enough these past few weeks?
He was more relieved that she wasn’t cryingshark.
She broke away from him and dove into the water, starting to swim toward the ship. Gad, what was she doing? Every spyglass on his ship was no doubt now in use and trained onher. He wanted to order every last crewman below deck, but none of them were going to obey, not while Countess Imogen was swimming like a mermaid and giving them a glimpse of her nicely rounded derriere every time she dipped underwater and out again.
“Imogen!”
Parrot was running up and down the beach, barking at something in the water. It could not have been anything dangerous, for he would have been leaping into the water to save Imogen even though hated getting wet. Who ever heard of a dog who didn’t like to swim?
“Look at the water, Draco!” Imogen called out, laughing and splashing him as he approached.
He was within arm’s reach of her, intent on grabbing her and hauling her to shore, when he finally realized why she was so deliriously happy.The moonstones.They hadn’t waited for the full moon to shine before bursting forth in all their brilliance.
He held Imogen tight in his arms while he looked around.
The colors surrounded them and were more vibrant than any he had ever seen before. Ruby reds and sapphire blues shimmering all around them. Emerald greens, and pinks and lilacs. Sunburst yellows. Every color of the rainbow. “Moonstones, Draco! They’re our moonstones!”
“Was there ever any doubt they would shine for us, Butterfly?”
Yes, it was high tide. Yes, there would be a full moon tonight. But those moonstones were not going to wait for the evening’s glow.
“He loves me!” Imogen shouted to his crewmen.
They all cheered her on. Was every last one of them on deck and watching her?
“Oh, Lord,” he groaned, knowing he was never, ever going to live this moment down. Not that he cared, he supposed. Hewrapped her once again in his embrace as they watched his ship sail out of the cove to moor in Moonstone Landing’s harbor.
Draco carried Imogen back to the house. They were both soaked to the skin, a fact commented on by his cook and the scullery maids, who were just lighting the kitchen fire to start their day. “Welcome home, m’lord,” his cook said, casting him a saucy grin, since he still held Imogen in his arms.
“Good to be home, Mrs. Gregg. Will you feed Parrot some scraps? Keep him down here until we ring for breakfast.”
“Aye, m’lord.” But he heard her mutter to her scullery girls, “It’ll be more like suppertime, if that silver glint in his eyes is any indication.”
Imogen smirked as he carried her upstairs to his sprawling bedchamber. His cabin on theAthenawas not even one-tenth the size. Nor did it have a large canopied bed or a fancy embroidered coverlet. No rug, either. Certainly not one as fine as the oriental patterned rug in these elegant quarters. “Let me help you out of those wet garments, sweetheart,” he said upon entering through the servants’ door and then kicking it firmly shut.
Was it bad form to leer at one’s wife?
She was just as eager to strip him out of his clothes. All was dumped in a sloshy heap on the marble tiles surrounding the hearth. But he took a moment to look at her in the light of dawn.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, admiring her softly rounded breasts and their dusky, firm tips as she shivered lightly.
He would quickly warm her up, since he had enough fire for the both of them, and fully intended to have her in flames and crying out his name within moments. They tumbled onto the bed, hungry for each other and greedy for every ounce of love to be wrung out of them. He kissed her and licked her, teased the buds of her breasts and teased the one between her legs, touchedand tasted her, and held her when she shattered in her pleasure and cried out for him.
He felt his own burst of splendor not long afterward, for she was tight and hot, and he felt so good inside her. It did not take many thrusts before he roared to his own release, spilling himself inside of her in throbbing waves.
He collapsed atop her, his senses surrounded by the heat of their love.
Lord, she was soft.
So beautiful, too.
“I love you, Imogen,” he whispered, lifting onto his elbows so his big body was not too heavy atop her slight frame.
She smiled contentedly. “The moonstones shone for us. Isn’t it splendid?”
